


C is for Cancer

by orphan_account



Series: Abandoned/Possibly Discontinued [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 09:31:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17384024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dean is an alcoholic and Castiel has cancer.This is just a story about two idiots falling in love when their worlds are falling apart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was cleaning up my laptop when I found this piece of work I had started on more than a year ago. Its unfinished and most likely will NOT be finished but I thought I would rather post the chapters I had written rather than simply deleting them so you could enjoy it :)

Dean _smells_ him before he sees him. The smell is unmistakably that of marijuana. Dean wants to shout at the man for disrespecting other patrons of the established who are all in various needs but angry words die on Dean’s lips help when he gets his first good look at the man.

The guy looks worse for wear with clothes barely clinging onto the skeletal frame, dark shadows under his eyes, a beanie that poorly hides his baldness and missing eyebrows that gives him an eerie  expression. The man looks terrible and so close to death’s door.

Dean checks the label on the room the man just exited from and not to his surprise, it’s the Cancer Support Group. Dean would have looked at the man in pity if he hadn’t seen men equally bad or worse for the past 3 months that he had been going here. From his own time at Alcoholic Anonymous, he knows nobody here wants pity. Well, some do but Dean doesn’t like pity himself so, Dean settles for glaring.

“Dude, mind not smelling like the inside of a college dorm when you are in the freaking support building.” Dean tries to keep the slight condescension out of his voice and he thinks he succeeds.

In reply, he gets a twitch of muscle at the stranger’s forehead which Dean can only assume means that the man is raising his non-existent eyebrows at him, non-verbally challenging him with a, “So, what?”

There is no further interaction as the stranger turns around and walks out of the glass double door, leaving behind the faint smell of weed. Dean forgets about the man as he attends his own AA meeting and tries to convince others but mostly himself that he is getting better.

#

The AA meeting organizers always book the South Hall on the first Thursday of every month. Dean likes it better than the stuffy room on the first floor which feels more like a glorified janitor’s closet than anything else.

Thursdays are good, or at least much more tolerable thanks to breathable, non-putrid air. There is a big window on the left that overlooks the grounds and the part of the main street and Dean mostly distracts himself from much of the sob stories by counting cars. Dean isn’t obvious about this nor is he trying to be an insensitive jerk but he is honestly tired of another middle aged man crying about his wife filing for divorce and taking full custody of their children because of his drinking problem. Dean can tell just from looking that that’s not the full story. Dean can tell it wasn’t just the drinking, it was most likely the gambling and the physical abuse that the wife had to endure before she had enough.

Of course, Dean doesn’t say this out loud.  The man has started ugly crying now and the counselor is holding him, assuring words of encouragement and Dean knows the next five minutes will be spent on giving placating hugs all around. Dean hugs a big, burly man he has come to known as Benny and Benny hugs him back.

The session is almost in its last minutes and Dean eyes the stacks of donuts and pot of coffee by the entrance that the organisers have set up. When the counselor gives his final words of encouragement for the week, Dean almost runs towards the donuts, much to the exasperated sigh of the counselor. Dean knows that the counsellors know that Dean wouldn’t be here if Dean had any choice in the matter. He doesn’t so here he is stuffing powdered donuts in his face and counting down to the very second when he can just walk out without seeming too eager. Not that it matters since he does it biweekly anyways.

* * *

When Dean walks out of the building, he walks straight towards the gates and towards the main street. He no longer tries to head to the parking lot or check his pockets for his car keys. He hasn’t driven his baby for 4 months now so it has gone out of habit for him.

The bus stop is just around the corner from the building and he always catches the Route 6 that should be coming in 10 minutes as he checks his cellphone. When he does turn corner, he doesn’t expect to see the stoner dude from earlier. The man is sitting on the bench, watching the cars pass by with a blank expression.

Dean doesn’t know what prompts his big mouth to speak up but before he knows it, he is speaking, “Did you miss your bus?”

The man doesn’t reply so Dean just shuffles awkwardly pretending he didn’t just try to make conversation and got rejected in the process. At least he is glad that there is nobody else but them two at the bus stop to witness the event.

After what feels like an hour of him just awkwardly shuffling behind the bench, Dean hears a hoarse reply, a sound he did not expect from such a skinny slip of a man.

“No, I did not miss the bus.” The stranger hasn’t turned towards him, and Dean gives a nod but immediately feels stupid because the man can’t see it. Dean doesn’t know if he wants to force a small talk so he remains quiet.

“I am waiting for my brother if you must know.” The man speaks up, still not looking at Dean.

“All this time? Is he running late?” Dean can’t help but be curious. Its been over an hour since he saw the man leave the building.

“Lucifer is never late, one is simply too early. Or that’s what his text says.”

Dean doesn’t know what part of that sentence to approach. “Your brother is called **_Lucifer_**?!”

At Dean’s outburst, the man turns around, a small smirk playing on his chapped lips, “Lucifer, Michael, Samandriel and Castiel.”

“Uh, was I supposed to understand any part of that sentence? Wait, I think I understood the Michael part…” Dean asks befuddled.

The man lets out a laugh, which ends up sounding a lot painful towards the end and from the way he starts caressing his back, Dean guesses the stranger was in actual physical pain.

After some awkward silence, the man quietly says, “My name is Castiel and Lucifer, Michael, Samandriel are my brothers.”

“Did you parents smoke a lot of _that…_ too.” Dean can’t help but mimic smoking a joint. “when naming you all.”

Once again, Castiel smirks. He seems a little lost in thought as he chuckles over whatever he is thinking. Fucking stoners, man.

“Naomi, my mother.” Castiel explains, once he gets his bearing back, still grinning at some inside joke. “is an avid Christian. We are all named after angels.”

Castiel is seemingly not offended at being accused of stoner parents. Not that Dean was aiming to be particularly offensive about his parents. It just...sort of slipped out. No sober parent could name their kid fucking Lucifer after all. But Lucifer was alike a fallen angel too, right? Dean was suddenly thankful for dating Anna in college. Not that he paid much attention to what she said.

“well, speak of the devil.” Dean hears Castiel chuckle mirthlessly. A sleek, expensive looking car stops infront of them and Dean lets out an impressed sound. Dean sees Castiel stand up from the bench and approach the car as the windows roll down revealing two angry occupants.

“Oh, Michael is here too. It’s the sign of the apocalypse.” Castiel sarcastically comments, before opening the door to the backseat and sliding in.

“Who’s your friend, Cassie?” The blonde in the driver’s seat asks Castiel, then turns a mocking grin towards Dean. “So, what type of cancer do you have?”

“Lucifer!” The angry chastisement comes from the brunette in the front passenger seat. Dean guesses this is clearly less about him and more about deep family issue. Also, it further proves this first assumption about the stoner dude also being a cancer dude.

“I don’t have cancer.” Dean tries to reply only to get three unimpressed glances his way. No, Castiel isn’t even looking at him; he is looking past Dean in a bored manner.

“Lucifer, look can you just drop me at my apartment already since you are so keen on playing chaperone.” Castiel rubs his face, pulling his beanie off. He turns to the brunette in front. “Michael, why are you even here. Its Lucifer’s turn to pick me up this week.”

Brothers. Dean isn’t meant for family dramas. He has enough in his own life. And contrary to what people say about enjoying someone else’s family drama, nope, it is just awkward. Really really awkward.

“And Lucifer seems to be doing a great job at it.” Michael sneers towards the blonde at front. “I called Balthazar and he said you hadn’t come home from your group session yet and by my calculation, you should have arrived at your apartment-”

Michael doesn’t get to finish before Castiel angrily throws his beanie at his brother. “I have told you to stop using Balthazar to check on me!”

Dean shudders under that thundering voice. Michal, however, seems unfazed.

“You are my brother, Castiel. I worry about you. Unlike Lucifer, who can’t even remember when he has to pick you-”

“Yeah because you totally did not have Castiel go to his chemo alone last week because you had to kiss some CEO’s ass.” Lucifer seems calmed but his eyes were raging.

“Atleast I showed up to the doctor’s meeting to discuss his radiotherapy.” Michael challenges.

“What? To make up for the dozen ones you missed due to your _important_ business meetings.”

“I pay for his psychiatrist.”

“I bet he needs one just to tell how full of shit you are.”

Dean watches the back and forth like a tennis match. And he thought his family had issues.

Suddenly he finds the blonde, Lucifer glaring at him, “Are you getting in or what?”

“what?” Dean isn’t always this dumbfounded, today is just special.

“Get in and tell me where I should drop you.” Lucifer looks impatient and he expects Castiel to say something like they aren’t friends and Dean is just some creep getting his jollies off watching their family drama Castiel surprises him by simply shrugging and scooting to the other side to let him in.

Dean surprises himself when he actually gets inside.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean doesn’t know what to exactly think of Castiel. He doesn’t have much to go by. Dude has cancer-a really long ass complicated one apparently, smokes pot and brothers who don’t really seem to get along but at the same time really seem to care for Castiel in their own way. Dean isn’t sure if they are friends or if the whole thing was a one-off awkward family road trip. He had to entangle a really clingy and asleep Castiel off his body, under the glower of Michael. Lucifer had dropped him at the curb to his shitty apartment and driven off without much of a goodbye.

To say the least, he is a bit distracted by recent events. Bobby notices.

“Dean, come to my office once you are done with that engine. I need to speak with you.” Dean hears Bobby say.

Dean slides out from underneath the car to find Bobby with a very uneasy expression. Dean suddenly gets worried. Bobby is one of the strongest person he knows. Bobby is like a rock. Dean has never really seen Bobby look so concerned. At least not for a while. Last he had seen Bobby look so concerned, Dean’s stomach was being pumped in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.

“Are you okay, Bobby? The engine can wait.” Dean asks with equal concern. He sits up and wipes his hand on the dirty rag.

“Listen to your boss, and finish that damn engine. Then, come to my office. No sooner. I ain’t paying for nothing, boy.” Bobby grumbles and walks off. While this sounds like normal Bobby, Dean can’t help but feel very uncomfortable.

* * *

“Okay there is no sweet and subtle way to put this. Are you drinking again, Dean?” Bobby asks as soon as Dean takes a seat in the chair.

“What the hell, Bobby?!” Dean is taken aback.

“Look, I know you have been trying and I have seen you try but since Friday, you have just been…distracted.” Bobby says, looking Dean straight in the eye. He can suddenly see all the years piling up in the form of lines around Bobby’s face. Wrinkles he hadn’t noticed before. It hits him that Bobby is getting old, and the worrying is only making it worse. Instantly, guilt consumes him.

“No, just I had things I had things on my mind.” Dean explains and Bobby looks unconvinced.

“Things you want to share…?” Bobby prompts but Dean doesn’t take the bait.

“Look, Bobby its nothing okay. Well, its something but nothing to with alcohol okay. Just pure non-alcoholic distraction. Heh.” Dean lets out a laugh. “A virgin distraction. But not the illegal kind of virgin. I don’t know where I am heading with this, Bobby.”

Bobby doesn’t look amused.

“Its nothing. I just met someone strange few days ago and just thinking about that. No big deal. Stone cold sober, Bobby.” Dean says, awkwardly nodding his head and gestures towards the door. “If that’s it, I am going back to work on the other car.”

Dean doesn’t notice Bobby rub his face thoughtfully, “met someone eh.”

* * *

Crowley is Dean’s AA sponsor. Crowley is also a dick. Crowley should rot in the deepest pits of hell, Dean thinks as he eats his eats his double cheeseburger.

“This establishment is very… _you_ , Dean” Crowley’s implication is clear as he swipes a finger across the table and inspects it. Dean makes extra effort to stuff his cheeks with more burger and chew with his mouth open vulgarly whenever he can.

“As your sponsor, Dean, your progress reflects-”

“I will eat that if you aren’t gonna.” Dean points at the untouched burger on Crowley’s side of the table and without waiting for a reply, Dean pulls the plate towards himself and chomps at it. No need to waste a good Roadhouse burger on a swarmy pretentious douchebag.

“Dean, I need you to know that you can _trust_ me. If the demons of your alcoholic past is too strong, I want you to know that you can call me any time.” While Crowley’s speech isn’t doing wonders for Dean, Dean also knows he can do worse than Crowley for a sponsor. Crowley may be a pretentious dick, but Dean knows that Crowley has battled his share of addiction problems and has overcome it. Crowley is a good sponsor; Dean will only admit to that under complete inebriation and he ain’t drinking anymore so that’s moot.

 “Look, Crowley, I haven’t had this demon or whatever of past. I am doing okay. Do, I get the urge to drink once in a while? Does a dog lift its leg when pissing?” Dean knows Crowley wouldn’t be satisfied with his half-baked answers like the counsellors at the AA meetings who just let him be and took whatever he said at face value and nodded at him then continued over to the next guy. “I am not gonna let Sam down any further. Or Bobby or Ellen and Jo. Godammit! I don’t even want to let Rufus down! I am trying my hardest here, okay. Dammit!”

“Good.” Crowley seems somewhat satisfied. “So, how’s moose doing?”

“Sam’s doing great. He just graduated from Stanford. The kid’s going places.” Unlike me, is left unsaid. “And, you should really stop calling him that. He doesn’t like you as it is.”

“Oh, squirrel. If only I cared about a trivial thing like that.” Crowley smirks Dean rolls his eyes.

#

“Is the pretentious dick gone?” Jo comes round picking up the empty plates.

“Crowley is my AA sponsor, Jo. A little respect.” Dean says without any heat. They both know Crowley is anything but. The first time Crowley had come to Roadhouse,

Jo rolls her eyes, “And should you even be here? Like isn’t being in a bar for a recovering alcoholic counterproductive?”

“Jeez Jo, you want me here so bad.” Dean knows Jo isn’t trying to be rude. That’s just here blunt way of asking how he is doing. Jo is like a little sister he never asked for.

“Its not like you will serve me any alcohol if I ask.” Dean states his eyebrow and Jo scoffs.

“Yeah, because I want mom to kill me. No thanks, Winchester.”

“How’s Ellen by the way?”

Suddenly, Jo’s eyes light up and a huge grin comes across her face. She puts back the dirty dishes back on his table and enthusiastically sits down opposite him.

“So, you didn’t hear this from me but I think she is seeing someone.” Jo whispers conspiratorially.

“As in _seeing_ seeing someone?” Dean balks in disbelief.

Jo rolls her eyes at him. “This isn’t middle school, Dean. I seriously think Mom might be dating someone.”

“Our Ellen? The same one who almost blew the kneecaps off Peter for instigating that bar on New Year’s Eve last year?” Dean doesn’t know if Jo is messing with him.

“I am serious, Dean!” Jo leans forward. Her face is earnest and excited. “Recently, she gets these calls at random times and she always leaves the room to take them-”

“I don’t know. Could be just official-”

“Shut up, Dean! Lemme finish!” Jo glares at him and Dean puts his hands up in mock surrender.


End file.
